


Art / Words: Can You Hear Me?

by LFB72



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Art, Crystal Cave, Crystals, Exhaustion, Ghosts, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reunion, Seperation, Telepathy, Traditional Media, after camlann, haunted, triple goddess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22878340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LFB72/pseuds/LFB72
Summary: Art and words for my Hurt and Comfort Bingo Round 10 February challenge:It has been fifteen hundred years since Camlann and Merlin defies the gods and tries to see Arthur again, exhausting himself in the process.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 65
Collections: Hurt/Comfort Bingo - Round 10





	Art / Words: Can You Hear Me?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry for the February challenge my square included: Telepathic trauma, haunted, exhaustion and Wild card: separation.  
> I have also included 3 pastel pictures to go with the words.
> 
> Many thanks to the wonderful Camelittle and Tari-sue who kindly checked it over for me

**Art / Fic : Can You Hear Me?**

The Crystal cave was a ruin of its former glory, long since pilfered. What crystals remained were small and sparse. The birthplace of magic barley hummed with it now. Magic was almost gone from the world, only tiny pockets still existed in far flung corners of earth. Except for him, Emrys. He was full of the stuff, it oozed from every pore, Merlin was walking vessel but to what end?

Had it not been in this cave, fifteen hundred years ago, that he had contacted Arthur telepathically using the power from those once abundant crystals? Had he not warned Arthur about Camlann? Arthur had heard him, Merlin knew he had but Merlin had failed to mention Mordred. The mighty Emyrs was so sure he had done enough to turn the tide and save his king, to defy the prophecy – yet it wasn’t enough.

Arthur had died. Nothing Merlin had done could have prevented it. Despite what Merlin had been led to believe at the time, Arthur’s fate had been to die and Merlin’s was to watch and wait. His grief was only tempered by the promise of Arthur’s return, that he would see him again, that all he had suffered would be worth it in the end. 

It wasn’t.

He had not been idle, he had saved lives where he could. Over the centuries he had tried to intervene but could not affect the big things – the wars and the natural disasters. But he could save a few lives when the gods weren't looking; he’d tipped the scales on several occasions. He trained as a physician many times over and used his skills wisely but Merlin was tired now, so very weary. He had waited so long for his king’s return and he was exhausted and lonely. 

The crystal cave was where his dead father had spoken to him all those years ago, where he’d rallied Merlin’s spirits and made him believe. Believe in the lie that the magic that flowed through his veins and the power to harness the very elements themselves would be enough.

It wasn’t.

Here was where Taliesin had met a young, naive, Merlin and helped him save Arthur. Merlin had been so grateful at the time, overwhelmed that their paths had crossed at that precise moment. Why did fate see fit to intervene then, when later it conspired to let Arthur die? The king was in his prime, on the cusp of change. It made no sense.

Arthur’s face was just a faint memory to Merlin. The pictures and paintings he’d drawn could never do it justice, could never capture the full vigor of the man, with his golden hair blown wild by the wind, sword aloft and his strong, square jaw thrown back in a raucous laugh. 

Merlin wanted to hear Arthur’s voice and see him one more time. Why was that so bad? Why couldn’t the gods give him that? Yes, he’d made mistakes. Many. But he’d paid for them and the price was heavy and debt relentless and unyielding. He was human, wasn’t he? Fallible – or at least he’d been brought up to be.

There were methods for restoring the dead – dark deeds and magic Merlin would never resort to, no matter how desperate or tempting. He had repeatedly resisted but his resolve was weakening. He wasn’t intending to drag Arthur’s unwilling spirit back to where it did not belong like Uther’s had been or Lancelot. He would never do that, he just wanted a glimpse of the man he loved. Something to restore his hope, something to keep him going, to sustain his soul. 

[ ](https://imgur.com/6hfg4h6)

Merlin gazed at the crystal like all those years ago. He willed his magic to flow as he held it firmly in his palm; its sharp edges cut into his hand but he ignored the pain and focused only on Arthur and trying to communicate with him, on crossing the void and reaching out.

“Arthur.” He said with his mind, “Arthur, can you hear me?”

Over and over he called, like shouting into a storm and just as exhausting. Merlin could feel how much it was costing him but he did not care, he would not give up, not when his feet went numb or when the crystal fell from his frigid fingers – the mantra continued. Even when his body failed, his mind carried on. 

***** 

_ “Arthur.” _

The chant was incessant, the voice guaranteed to pull him from his slumber. Arthur reached around for something to throw but there was nothing, only black.

Arthur had not been sleeping, He’d died. 

He died at Camlann. Merlin had been there, had done everything in his power to save him but it wasn’t enough. In the end, in Arthur’s last moments it was not his own pain that had hurt him. His battle wound was fatal, he was resigned to that; what had crushed him was the anguish Merlin held – the sorrow at a perceived failure and an inevitable loss.

He’d said, ‘Thank you’. It wasn’t enough. It couldn’t possibly convey what Merlin had meant to him but it was all he could manage at the time.

“Arthur.”

The darkness was all-enveloping. There was a weight against his shoulders and a burning in his chest. It was like being beneath the ocean, he could allow himself to slip back into oblivion or fight for the surface, for life, to be guided by the voice, by Merlin.

[ ](https://imgur.com/Xi3tSDd)

He was in a cave, he’d been in enough of them to know. Why was he in a dark, dank, cave?

Merlin.

The air was different, this was not his time he knew that instinctively. Merlin? Where was Merlin? 

Small crystals imbedded in the walls gave off a faint glow and his own body shimmered in the dark. A ghost then? He was back as a spirit, an apparition. What use was that? How could he lead men or help Merlin, when his body held no substance?

“Merlin?”

The cave was darker at the back and there was an area where all the crystals were blacked out. Slumped on the ground was a body: Merlin.

“What have you done?”

Arthur could do nothing in this celestial form. It was useless, his hand merely passed through the rock. He hovered on the ground unable to interact with his surroundings. 

Merlin’s skin was pale, head lolling to the side. How Arthur longed to hold, to touch – had always longed. Merlin was a beautiful man. Not in the conventional sense – Merlin’s features were too sharp and angular for that – but he was beautiful to Arthur. He’d seldom had the opportunity to privately stare and now, when Arthur wanted nothing more than to gather the man in his arms, he could do nothing. 

“Merlin?” he shouted 

Merlin’s chest rose and fell rhythmically. His hair was short and dark, as it had always been, but his clothes were unusual, different. Arthur could not bear to merely watch; he reached out a tentative hand, knowing it would pass through, but he had to try.

[ ](https://imgur.com/OoIJvLC)   
  


As his fingers connected, he felt a surge of energy pass from him into Merlin, whatever it was that gave his form that faint glow dimmed slightly as it flowed into the slumped figure and revived him like a wilting flower receiving water.

Merlin’s eyes sprang open. “Arthur!” He gasped, face breaking into a wide grin. The smile dropped immediately, “No.” He sat up and scrambled away from Arthur, pulling himself further from his king and breaking their connection.

Merlin visibly sagged. The syphoned energy stopped and Arthur saw his own flickering and translucent limbs stabilise.

“What did you do, Merlin?” Arthur asked cautiously.

“I had to see you again, it’s been too long.”

“You missed me that badly?” Arthur raised an eyebrow.

Merlin nodded, he attempted a smile but it was brittle and pained. “You have no idea.”

“How long?”

A year, five, ten? Merlin did not look that different physically but something about him was off. He looked haunted and tired. He’d never looked like that when Arthur had known him, always a force of nature, a beacon of light no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

“Fifteen hundred years.”

“What? That’s impossible.” Arthur breathed.

“Magic.”

Of course, Merlin’s magic had preserved him whilst everything else moved on.  _ ‘I don’t want you to change’ _ … those words haunted Arthur now; he had not wanted this.

Merlin shook his head sadly. “They said you’d come back, when Albion’s need was greatest the Once and Future King would return… but you didn’t, I waited so long… No one even remembers, Camelot is just a legend, the mighty King Arthur nothing but a myth.”

Arthur balled his fists, he was so angry. Merlin had lived for over fifteen hundred years. He had witnessed the world changing and watched people leave and he couldn’t. It was unnatural to suffer such a fate. No one deserved such a punishment. 

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Merlin wavered, struggling to keep his head up, the effort of talking seemed to be taking its toll.

“What has this cost you, Merlin?” Arthur asked sternly, his arm reaching out.

Merlin dodged his touch. “It doesn’t matter, I promised I’d serve you until the day I die but I can’t.”

“No. Not like this, never like this. If I’m to be with you again, we will both be whole and strong so I can hold you and tell you what I never got a chance to, when I was alive.” 

Merlin paused and Arthur took his chance and lunged towards Merlin.

“No! You can’t do that Arthur, you can’t give me your life force.”

“Merlin. This isn’t living. It’s not what I want. It’s a half-life, it’s wrong. I want  _ you _ to be strong.”

Arthur pushed his form into Merlin knowing it would restore the man he loved, but send himself back to the void where he’d been before. 

*****

It was pitch black. Arthur knew he had maybe moments before he entered the same status he’d been in until Merlin had pulled him out.

“It’s not fair!” he shouted into the darkness. “You have no right to do that to him.”

“We have every right, little king,” said a disembodied woman's voice, actually not a single voice but three, all slightly different but speaking in unison.

“Emrys could have been a god. He was sent to guide you and he failed.” Voice one was cool and ethereal.

“That fault was mine! Merlin tried, it was I who did not listen.” Arthur raged.

“He should have tried harder. He should have made you listen, he had the power to do so and he wasted it.” The second voice was whispery and deeper than the first, older.

“You set him up to fail. That was too much, no one should have been forced to carry such a burden.” If only Arthur had known at the time what Merlin was going through or what had been expected of him. But Merlin had only tried to support and counsel his king. It had never occurred to Arthur that Merlin was fighting his own battles, more ferocious than any others.

“Emyrs wasn’t anyone, he was magic. It was his job to restore it and guide you. Instead, he fell in love with you,” the third voice sneered, this voice was bitter, harsh and scary. In life Arthur would have feared it but he was already dead so what could they do?

Arthur stopped. Arguing with the gods would never work. “I loved him, too. I never told him but I did. You never gave us a chance.”

“Enough, Arthur Pendragon. You have said enough.” It was all three voices together in an eerie chorus of an overlapping and echo. 

He hadn’t. Arthur had not said it to Merlin, not told him directly how he felt. 

“Let me go back.”

“It is not up to you,” they said.

“You told him I’d return but it is all a lie, a manipulation, a game. He is better than all of you.”

“This stops now, Arthur Pendragon.”

He’d made them angry, he did not care. There were no more words, no sounds, just blackness. 

“I love you, Merlin and I will come back for you.” He said to the abyss. He said it over and over and hoped that Merlin could hear. He said it until the words slurred and he drifted back to black.

****

“So it is agreed”, said the first voice clearly. “The Once and Future King shall return.”

“Yes, it is time, Albion needs him,” whispered a second voice.

“But the great war is not yet upon us,” challenged the third.

“There will be other wars,” purred the second voice.

“Emrys has paid the price for his mistakes. He shall have his king. They will be whole, they will be equal and they will be together,” said the first.

“Very well, let us begin.” The triple goddess’ three heads bowed in unison and they began to chant.

The End

>

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked what you saw/ read. I played around with some filters to get the look I was after and hope Arthur appears suitably ghost like.


End file.
